| Revenge and hate dost run amock Enshrouding all with blood and fear; So many minds astir with shock - Perplexed by hell's appearance here. On wings of ardor should we soar, Not those of spite o'er things now lost; Sweet Africa we do implore: Ignite us not at life's great cost! Because we can and that we will, In peace, greatness achieve; Let freedom carry us until In time we all believe: To be as one beats "us and them" - Yet better still is "ours" - a gem. Line Count: 14 |